


Oh Mister Emory

by Dorktapus42



Series: Come Together-verse [51]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Anxiety, Author (the character) has anxiety, Friendship, Gen, Regret, Wilford has DPD/DID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 08:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21115400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorktapus42/pseuds/Dorktapus42
Summary: ‘Set us free’ the ideas called. ‘Write us down. Play with us.’He refused to answer.He’d grown drunk with power and paid the price.His hands itched with the thought of writing something meaningful- something concrete, etched into the stone of reality.Ink stained his hands like blood- the blood of thousands of rent paragraphs, scattered words making up every molecule of his being.





	Oh Mister Emory

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! It's nice to be posting! I've basically reached the end of what I have pre-written, so I will be taking a break to write some more, but I hope it won't take longer than a month, with school and things. I have some ideas in the woks that should make getting some stuff out easier, anyhow, but wring is hard and I try not to promise too much. 
> 
> Song this is based on: (holy crap it's fantastic I have it in both youtube and soundcloud so I highly suggest you listen to it either before/during for the vibes);   
https://soundcloud.com/madame-macabre/oh-mister-emory  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sITvWOgarjc

‘ _ Set us free _ ’ the ideas called. ‘ _ Write us down. Play with us. _ ’

He refused to answer. 

He’d grown drunk with power and paid the price. 

He’d hurt  _ dozens  _ over the years- he’d mutilated the Host, he’d terrorized his own creations-

But for what reward? It had turned out as a morbid fascination until it’d twisted into this fire of creation and torture and hell. There was no reward, not really. Just… an addiction. A game. 

He stared at the piles of papers and jars of writing implements stacked high on the table. 

Pens. Paints. Handmade inks. Caligraphy sets. Plain ol’ markers. The only thing that sat by his desk was a single pad of paper and a mechanical pencil. 

_ His hands itched with the thought of writing something meaningful- something concrete, etched into the stone of reality.  _

_ Ink stained his hands like blood- the blood of thousands of rent paragraphs, scattered words making up every molecule of his being.  _

He swept them into the largest cardboard box he could find and carried them downstairs. 

It was the middle of the night, but Chase was at his usual spot in the living room, journaling by the light of the lamp. 

He dumped the box onto the coffee table with the air of someone who hadn’t slept in days, worrying about something they had no way to fix. 

Chase looked up. 

“Author? What’s all this?”

He pointed at the box, hand shaking ever so slightly. 

“Keep this away from me.”

Chase looked at him, then at the box, then back at those unwaveringly tired eyes. Concerned, but determined. 

“Okay. I will.”

He’d hold him to that. 

\---------

The Egos noticed one thing about the Author over the next few weeks. 

He was ever so slowly deteriorating. The man had never been pristine, not for a long time, but he’d never looked so… war-torn. Restless and paranoid, exhausted, yet unable to get sleep because of the battle in his mind.

“Author? You alright?”

“Me? Fine. Why do you ask?”

“You’re jumping at your own shadow and pacing all over the place. I haven’t seen you eat in at least a day. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing. Everything’s fine.” Except for the fact that he couldn’t sit still, couldn’t sleep, was constantly itching for a pen in his hand, consumed by guilt-

But they relented. 

Nothing was going to get anything out of him anyway.

Author was a very stubborn man. 

\-----------

Tim and Sam looked at each other in worry. 

Author didn’t look very good. 

Maybe this would cheer him up?

“Uncle Author? Could you tell us a story?”

Author looked at them in surprise. “You want me to tell you a story?”

They nodded, burrowing their way under a blanket. 

“What kind of story would you like?”

_ “Dragons?” _

“Ooh! And space!”

“ _ Space dragons! _ ” They chanted in unison. 

He laughed for the first time in a few weeks. 

“Alright, space dragons it is.” He rolled the idea around in his mind before something came to him. 

“You two comfortable?”

At the affirmation he grinned. 

“Good. Let’s begin.” He cleared his throat, settling down in the nearest chair. “Once upon a time there was a dragon-”

\-------------

|Which one of us is going to drag Author to Picani’s?|

This was not one of their usual meetings, but one made specifically for this purpose while Author was distracted. 

“I̴ ̸w̶i̵l̷l̷.̶ ̸I̸’̸m̶ ̵g̴e̷t̸t̶i̸n̷g̵ ̸p̴r̴e̶t̶t̸y̶ ̸g̴o̴o̸d̷ ̶a̶t̷ ̷i̶t̴.̴”

“I can.” Wilford volunteered. “I was going to set up an appointment anyway so…”

|Excellent. I shall let him know we’re coming.|

\-------------

Dark sat in his office, fiddling with a pencil. 

At this rate he should just send everyone to therapy. 

_ You’re one to judge, Mr. Never-Been-To-Therapy-In-His-Life.  _

|Celine, how on earth would that work? You can’t just go say: oh, hey, I have two souls in my body. There would be so many questions.|

Cue the annoyed grumbling. 

Then a quiet knock sounded on his door and Host stuck his head in. 

“Wilford and William are making an announcement at dinner.”

|Oh, alright. Thank you Host.|

Well this was going to be interesting. 

**Author's Note:**

> As I said above:  
I'll be taking a bit of a break to write some stuff, but I tried warning y'all about it, so I don't think it's much of a surprise? I like warning you if I'm going to disappear, anyway. Who knows how long i'll be gone, but I doubt longer than a month? It depends on how much I write with school, really. It's been kicking my ass on the writing front, really.   
Now onto new things!   
This was very fun to write- the song fits him really well, and I highly recommend reading the story it's based on if you haven't already! (The Art Of Jacob Emory. It's soooo goood.)  
Anywho~ I hope you enjoyed and that you have a great day! Any criticism, if constructive, is very much appreciated! (I'm trying to polish up the tags on anything new I write because of a super helpful comment, so it is definitely taken into consideration.)  
Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it!


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